


This is the way the world ends

by roo1965



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Snakes, emprisoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roo1965/pseuds/roo1965
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Some days you help people out by rescuing a few lost cows and children and they're embarrassingly grateful; other people, if they think you look funny or you sneeze, their only response is to lock you in the garden shed"</p><p>Spoilers Season 5 up to and includiing The Shrine<br/>SGA Genficathon 2010 --Angst- week 2- Gen</p><p>Prompt: Not with a bang,but with a whimper</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the way the world ends

Life in the Pegasus Galaxy was never going to be boring; John Sheppard had learnt that on Day One through the Stargate. It had, after all, been one of the attractions apart from the funky gene and space travel.

Right now though, he'd prefer to be warm and dry- very boring. Right now, he was shivering in cold, black sticky wet, clingy mud holding onto a small child and his puppy. And of course it was the middle of the night and no-one knew where he was. Why did this sort of thing always happen to him? Ronon would have waded in and straight out again, no problem. Teyla would have been calm and organised a team rescue and Rodney.... Actually, he wasn't sure if Rodney would have gone in or not- but he probably would have shouted encouragement from the safety of the dry edge...while calculating viscosity and temperature of the mud....

Point was, John was stuck in the mud...ha ha...and the others weren't. Stuck in the mud. Boring. Not. Where was he...oh yes...life in the Pegasus Galaxy....

Boring? No way, no how, what with the Wraith, their worshippers, Replicators and rogue Michael roaming around out there. What wasn't totally razed and destroyed or subsumed by them was left tainted. Survivors scattered, regrouped and merged to form new units elsewhere. If they could relocate on their own they did so. If not- word got out that the Lanteans might be able to help with the heavy lifting. Lanteans also 'checked in' with and supported many fledgling communities they had come across- bartering seed crops and labour at harvest time when they could- rather than just supplying them with MRE's. Why give them a plastic bucket and not help them build a well and show them how to maintain it? The knowledge and labour were worth more than flashy trinkets.

Moving to new and unknown places was fun for kids and everyone else for the first hour or two, but if you found the climate extreme at both ends of the day, or you had to run from huge man eating carnivores or plant life- then it could be a bit of a problem. John had been deployed on extreme continents himself. He remembered well the daytime heat and flies of Afghanistan and the freezing beauty of Antarctica. He knew that being baked and fried for weeks on end made you wish for the other, until you then found yourself freezing your bits off when you put the trash out at night.

But mostly, apparently, relocation seemed to work- the Pegasus inhabitants had been fighting and surviving the Wraith for generations. In most cases they knew how to deal with it, and if not, the newcomers learned really fast or they were dead.

Colonel John Sheppard hoped this new settlement would last out their first year. The Primarans, survivors of a partial culling and natural disaster, were enthusiastically making 'a go of it' so far eleven months in. Previous visits had been hot and dry and priority given over to water supply, shelter, crop cultivation and housing the livestock in a grassed valley complete with a river.

Today had started off so well, he remembered- apart from when they stepped through the Gate into late morning humid rain.

0o0

Earlier that morning...

"Oh lovely!" Rodney groused, pulling his vest and jacket tighter against the precipitation.

"Suck it up McKay; you're not going to melt! It's not that far," John chided as he stepped past him. Ronon loomed tall and water-tight in his long coat as they went to greet Telmar the newly elected leader of New Prima, waiting patiently in a waterproof cape.

"Good tiding to you this morning."

"And the same to you from our people," John replied

"The shower will not last long. It's been like this for a few weeks on and off, wet and humid." Telmar informed them as they set off to walk the few clicks to the village. John felt like they should be bringing equipment or food or something to help out, but the Primarans were proud independent people and would ask only when absolutely necessary.

"Everybody alright?" John asked as they followed him into the main path and headed for the biggest hut and into warmth and heat and cooking smells.

"Sit and relax." Telmar said with a smile gesturing towards a table and benches. "It's been a lot wetter since you last saw us and we've had some slight flooding. We have managed. An area has become marshland and a danger to wandering children and animals. A few been ill with chills and ague but I am sure they will be well again soon. The weather is turning warm again."

"Can we help you with medicines or have a doctor visit? Need help with drainage?" John asked, concerned.

"No, we have plenty of healers and medicines, but thank you for the offer. We know how to contact you in an emergency."

John grimaced but he couldn't force Marines and doctors on them. So they sat and talked and drank cool fresh water and ignored Rodney and Ronon as they fought over the last of the sweet cakes.

As Telmar predicted the rain soon stopped and the sun reappeared and they went back outside. The earth steamed in the now baking sunlight and puddles began to slowly dry up. Telmar took him on a meet and greet tour and he half wished Teyla was here. She was much better at this schmoozing than he was. Teyla was on Atlantis with Kanaan caring for a colicky Torren. Telmar's youngest son Neelan ran up to show him his new puppy and chattered along the way and it suddenly reminded him of his own childhood dog. Rodney disappeared off to check how the pump and spring system was working with the extra rain water and Ronon was half keeping an eye on him and half exploring.

After an hour or so Rodney radioed in

"Sheppard? Aachoo...oh God- the pump is fine...sniff...but we had to clear out some channels—choo.... It's muddy and there's grass pollen that hates me. I'b coming back."

"Okay, sounds like you'd better head back to base."

"Can I?"

"Yeah, you'll only get worse and you can't operate like that."

They returned a short time later, Ronon muddy but his usual stoic self and Rodney with dried mud splashed up his legs and arms, red rimmed runny eyes and sneezing.

John handed him his spare pack of tissues out of his vest.

"Dave used to get Hay fever really bad as a kid, so ...you know- it's okay. Go back and get some antihistamines off Keller."

Rodney looked up in surprise and John didn't know why he'd said that throw-away snippet about his brother. Rodney opened his mouth to reply but sneezed instead. John kept his game face on as he saw Rodney trying to puzzle out what was going on.

John filled Telmar in on the news about the pump. He was glad it was working well in the new rainfall and was sorry to see Rodney's affliction. On their way to escort Rodney back to the Gate he asked them if they would stay the night and eat. This was usual and part of the way the Primarans liked to do business and trade, despite their new surroundings, old habits stayed the same. In that respect they were similar to the Athosians- homely and welcoming but they were no pushover either.

Ronon wouldn't mind staying over. He said it kept his skills honed and from going soft on Atlantis. John liked being off world too, but that didn't stop him hoping Rodney was alright. Not that he was paranoid or anything since his brain infection...They agreed to stay over, as they had done before and Atlantis would see them the next morning.

All was well with the world and the evening was filled with talk of building and crops and fishing and outlandish tales that had probably been true in the distant past. Night came swiftly as a dark humid curtain filled with noises of insects, animals and humans. John and Ronon accepted guest pallets in a room off the main hut and were glad to rest; the day had been pleasantly busy.

They were woken up in the middle of the night by voices and cattle braying far off, then uproar.

"What the...?" John threw back the blanket, stuck his feet in his boots and joined Ronon at the door, slipping his .45 into his holster.

"The cattle have got out of the compound; we must round them up before they injure themselves."

They rushed out to help.The cattle were vital as food and trading gifts. They split up and when John came near the main area again leading one beast, Telmar's wife rushed up to him, frantic.

"Neelan's gone missing. I'm afraid he'll get hurt in all this!"

"Why would he be out?"

"The puppy! I found he still had it with him and I told him to return it to the mother and litter mates."

John thought the ground would be too churned up in the main street to tell but he remembered the little boy saying where he used to play. Dammit. Rodney had taken the LSD with him and he didn't want to waste any more time going back to the gate for it and a jumper. Everyone else was busy herding cattle. He headed off with no LSD and a hunch.

He tapped the radio "Ronon, Neelan's run off I'm going to look for him."

0o0

And that's how he found himself stuck chest high in mud with Neelan and the puppy. He'd headed off in the dark wishing he'd grabbed his jacket as he pushed past scratchy shrubs. A damp smell wafted across his nostrils and at he same time his feet squelched into watery mud. There was a noise. He stood still, ears straining. Was that crying? "Neelan?" he hissed into the dark. He took a few steps closer, ankle deep in the mud now. There. A blob.

"Neelan, is that you buddy?"

"I'm stuck!" came a shuddering wail followed by a high pitch yip.

"What was that?"

"Lix, my puppy."

"How'd you get all the way over there?" John sludged his way closer through the gloopy mud, feeling for some sort of stable surface under his boots. Some areas seemed to be more watery; a buzz of insects rose and fell around him.

"I tripped and dropped him and then the cows were out and I was scared they'd step on him and he was scared too and ran away and I followed and then he was in the water and I didn't now there was mud this deep and ...and....I got scared and no-one came..." the child sobbed.

John sighed- when you were six years old a puppy was the most important thing in your life. He had almost reached the little boy who was chest deep in the mud with the wriggly pup in his arms. No doubt he was tired out and had run out of energy to try and make it back to the edge. As John reached him, Neelan suddenly surged towards him flinging one arm round his neck, whacking the side of his face and ear and pulling him deeper into the mud with his added weight. John braced his legs, trying not to fall over.

"Hey, hey! It'll be alright." John soothed, wrapping both his arms round the boy and animal. Neelan snuffled into his shirt and the dog licked his chin. He stood there for several minutes feeling the cold seep into his bones as Neelan shifted to grab on with both arms tight round his neck, and legs round his torso. John reached one hand to his radio to call for Ronon and the villagers, only to find it gone. He peered into the mud hoping to see it on the surface, but no. It was gone. Maybe, when Neelan had grabbed for him...

He took a deep breath and mustered strength to slog his way back out. He moved, fighting the ooze.

"No, there are things in the water!" Neelan cried out.

"What?" snapped John, looking around for alligators or mutant bugs. Neelan was too tired and scared to answer. Maybe he just thought he saw something floating on the top of the surface- twigs or weeds or something. Not that he could get to his gun anyway, now. But a warning shot would have alerted Ronon and the villagers.

He was beginning to shiver and pushed forward again, they needed to be out of here ASAP.

There was a snap of movement in front of him. He jerked back and squinted in the gloom and could just make out the head of something sticking out of the water. He moved a hand and it flashed forwards again – something with its jaws open in intimidation. Water snake. No way to know if it was harmless or not, but it was clearly attracted to warm bodies at night.

"See?" Neelan muttered against his chest and his fingers tightened round John's neck. John could feel his heart beat a little faster.

John slowly turned. Great. Snakes, plural. And apparently holding them hostage. Why not bite them and get on with it.....unless they liked to wait out until the cold sucking mud got them first or they were protecting something. What did he know? He was on an alien planet looking at alien snakes. They didn't look large enough to be like either constrictors or cottonmouths.

Either way it looked like they were stuck for a while longer as the snakes obviously viewed them as a threat when they'd thrashed around in the gloop. Even if they were non-venomous, he still didn't want either of them to get bitten.

It felt like hours later that Ronon, Telmar and a few other guys showed up. The night was beginning to fade and the air warmed up. Meanwhile, John still clutching Neelan and the puppy had managed to move a little nearer to the edge of the mud pit, swamp -whatever.

People disappeared and came back again. Netting was used to snare the snakes and move them out of the way while others helped pull John and his cargo out of the viscous muddy water. John's legs collapsed once on solid ground from the strain of standing up in the cooling sludge. Canteens of water were poured over them to clean them up a little and a cloth was used to wipe off excess watery mud. Neelan was whisked off by his grateful parents and Ronon stuck by John as he slowly stumbled his way back to the village. The morning sun warmed his body up as he went, but he was desperate for a shower and dry clothes.

He got a bath, borrowed clothes, something slathered over a few insect bites and a drink of something not entirely like tea and coffee together, but at least it was warming him from the inside out. Feeling a little more human he went to see how the kid was doing. He almost wished he had a camera on him- Neelan was fast asleep in his bed with the puppy curled up by his side.

They gated back to Atlantis, John clutching his slightly damp and smelly clothing and that was the end of that.

0o0

Life returned to normal for a while. There were some system glitches and computer snafus in medical and the kitchens. The next ten days were filled with tedious paperwork from Woolsey, irritating niggly questions on the weekly data burst from Earth about their last escapade with replicator Weir and whether there was still any infection on base and basically trashing many of the decisions he and Rodney had made. Training with Lorne, his Marines and Ronon worked off a good inner rant and prevented him from emailing something rude back to the SGC.

Visiting with Teyla and Torren helped him get his head round making right decisions in a split second. Doing nothing wasn't an option. But even as he sat in the mess hall with the baby on his lap feeding him, while Teyla ate unimpeded- his brain was still saying yes, but what if? What if they ran into more Wraith worshippers. What was Michael up to? There were so many ways to screw things up. Like his dad had shouted at him once. And that got him uncomfortable. Months on and he still hadn't dealt with his dad dying and opening up communications with Dave was slow going on both sides.

John was glad of the next available excuse to go off-world despite the intergalactic screw up potential.

About two weeks after his visit with the Primarans, John sat staring at his desk.  
Drawing up new rotas with Major Lorne shouldn't be this yawn inducing, but it was giving him the usual headache, which made him irritable. At lunchtime Rodney started in his usual snark fest about him being a trouble magnet and how nothing was ever simple and that tomorrow was bound to end in disaster. Maybe Rodney was over tired from fixing things until 0300 several nights in a row but it just rubbed John the wrong way this time. He was beginning to feel that maybe Rodney had jinxed them already.

Time out. He needed a time out. Something to keep his inner mouse from running full pelt on that tiny wheel. Oh, God now he couldn't stop thinking about a squeaky wheel!

It was just that Rodney was kind of right. They'd had to deal with a lot of bad crap lately. Ignoring smiles and greetings he stomped to the nearest transporter and headed for the furthest pier, his favourite. He burst out of the open door with relief. It was a beautiful afternoon outside and he hadn't noticed. He jogged to the end of the pier and sat on the edge enjoying the feel of the sun and light breeze on his tired skin.

Like Frodo at the end of his travels, today John felt stretched and over extended from being in too many mental places at once. With an inner shake he roused enough to pull up his legs and take off his boots and socks and roll up the ends of his BDUs. All he needed was a fishing pole and a packet of sandwiches and he'd be Huck Finn for sure. He grinned to himself, wiggling his toes in the warm air.

He loved being military leader on Atlantis; a final lucky throw of the dice of fate (and a tossed coin) had given him a city, spaceships and a kick-ass team any officer would sell their grandmother for. That made him think again of family and dad. A tight feeling grabbed his chest. Too much, too late- Dave's initial angry assumptions about the will and money and no chance to make it right with dad. Money! He didn't need it in Atlantis and he wasn't on Earth often enough to do anything with it there except convert it into toys and useful trading items off world, or as donations to the entertainment rooms in the city for all the staff.

He yawned in the sunlight. Being pissed off made him tired and he pulled his feet back up and wrapped his arms round his knees and rested his chin on top. Thinking.  
His mind raced over explosions, Hive gunk and being injured, but saving Teyla, worshippers, alternate versions of the Daedalus and them being dead, replicators trying to take over the city. Rodney losing his faculties but latching onto him like a 24/7 limpet. But there had been good things. Teyla. Torren. Clone Beckett. And he still had his team.

He supposed he should return to his desk but the sun was pleasantly warm. It was peaceful out here with the slap of waves against the pier legs. He fished out his shades and put them on before he relaxed onto his side on the pier for those extra five minutes.

John came to with a start, arms swinging as warm fingers pressed into his neck.

"What the hell!" he shouted as he sat up. "Teyla?"

"Stand down, buddy," Ronon said behind her.

"Everything okay? Hive ships? Rodney?" he asked hurriedly putting his socks and boots back on.

"All is well," Teyla reassured him calmly, as he stood up in the early evening light. "Nobody had seen you for hours and you did not respond to the radio."

"Came to check you hadn't been nibbled to death by the fish," Ronon deadpanned.

John threw him a small glare. "Gee thanks. I'm fine. Came out for some sun and air. Guess I fell asleep longer than I intended to, sorry." His stomach growled. "Dinner time?" he asked with a smile.

"Rodney traced your life sign to the pier. It was getting dark and we thought you should come in." Teyla explained as they walked back along the pier to the connecting door.

"Last of the turkey on the menu for tonight, Thought you might like to get there early." Ronon finished.

John smiled. No Wraith. No city mainframes problems. A nap, friends and almost turkey for dinner. What more could he ask for?

0o0

Meeting the inhabitants of M1515-S78 the next day was slow going. Much like himself- sleeping through his alarm, he missed his morning run with Ronon. Neither the long hot shower nor the secret stash of Tylenol he'd taken had eased his headache either.

Naturally both sides were wary of each other, looking for hidden meanings and common ground amongst the posturing. So far they hadn't been run off right off the bat. Teyla was doing her best to present a neutral face without giving too much away about where exactly they were from. Any clues about ZPMs, weapons or news of Michael or cullings was vital to the ongoing existence of Atlantis. They needed an information network of allies, food- the whole nine yards.

Teyla talked and John zoned out, hunching into his jacket and tac vest. Yesterday's long nap had been nice and warm. He shivered suddenly, like someone had walked over his grave. He was cold. He glanced at Ronon, who was staring back at him. He smiled back and rubbed his hands together. Cold. He was sitting inside, there were cooking fires and food and it should be warm. He should be warm. Suddenly a cold wave surged through him making him pitch forward onto the table they were sitting at. He flung out a hand to stop himself from face planting. He shot up, the chair falling over with a clatter. The world tilted to one side and he staggered against the wall, shaking, eyes closed, willing himself to stay upright.

Voices rose around him, harsh and accusing. What was going on? He should do something. Say something, but he was numb. A face appeared next to his.

"Sheppard! You're scaring the natives and us! What's wrong with you?"

"Rod'ny? Dunno. C-cold." He wrapped his arms round his torso and looked around. Ronon was poised ready to go off at any second and Teyla looked worried. Rodney hovered in panic mode. Not good.

"This is a trick! You bring sickness to my people!"

"No! We just want to...."

"Enough! We have heard about a deadly sickness spreading across worlds. You dare to come here and talk of trade and information. You endanger my people. My family!" shouted the leader, sweeping his hands to include the others in the room.

With a flick of his hand, his men surrounded them "Take them to the empty store at the end of the village. We will wait and see if you all get sick. You all get sick, you die- end of problem for us and anyone else. Your leader recovers, we may talk again."

"Our people will expect us to return within a set time." Teyla tried to argue.

"We wait."

Part of the agreement for initial talks was to give up their weapons. Now they were made to leave any devices but they were allowed to keep their water canteens and the food.

With no other option they were herded along the street to the end house. They were pushed inside. It was more like an abandoned storeroom with no windows and a door that bolted from the outside. The floor was packed earth and straw remnants. John sat on the floor, his back against a wall. Teyla knelt near him.

"His hands are cold!" she reported wrapping a hand over his. Ronon shrugged off his coat and draped it over his shoulders. John tugged it round and did it up and still shook. He closed his eyes. Shoulda known. The Pegasus Galaxy was out to get him.

"I don't understand. We haven't been near any sick people!" Rodney hissed as he paced round the room. "We didn't eat or drink anything here for him to be allergic..." he pushed forward and peered at John "No swelling, no rash. Trouble breathing Sheppard?"

"N-n-o. Just cold and achy."

"It can't be poison coating anything or we'd all be ill. I feel warm not cold!"

"Ronon?" Teyla asked. Ronon shrugged "Wounds and injuries I know something of. Sickness comes in too many forms to tell."

"Flu!" shouted Rodney triumphantly. His face fell "Oh, no. That could be very bad. If only they'd let one of us go back to the jumper and get Keller to explain it."

"We have not told them about the jumper."

"Semantics."

John's muscles tensed painfully and he couldn't stop the grunt of pain and decided he could deal with it if he slid sideways onto the floor. "Tally supplies," he gasped.

"We can do nothing but wait and see if John feels better soon."

They waited either sitting on the floor or pacing round. They had four full canteens of water, power bars and a few MRE's; the only med supplies were some blister packs of Tylenol and some water purification tablets. After an hour or so the chills and shakes stopped but it was a false hope as John felt heat flush his body.

Hot. So hot. He thrashed on the ground grabbing at Ronon's coat.

"Whoa. What's going on?"

"Hot. Boiling, gotto...." He panted before finally undoing the buttons. Ronon helped him to sit up so he could take the coat off.

Teyla cupped his chin in her hand as he unzipped his vest; she looked at him in concern. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, tickling his skin.

"This is bad," Rodney said, shocked at the suddenness of the fever and no doubt worrying if it was contagious and if they were all gong to die. John didn't want them to die, but he felt like he was going to. Like he was going to burn up in flames or explode.

He'd finally wrestled with his jacket and it wasn't enough. " 'S no picnic for me either Rodn'y," he said trying to get his T shirt off.

"Whoa. You can stop right there!"

"He is full of fever Rodney."

John lay on the floor gasping for air, hoping for a cool breeze but there wasn't going to be one in a room with no windows. The only light came in from under and through the not quite fitting slatted wooden door. He was going to melt.

Suddenly there was a cold touch on his chest. Wraith! He fought it off but hands pressed him down as he shouted and cursed it. Cold slivers of acid washed over his face and torso. Strength seeped out of him and he lay helpless.

Nothing happened. No agony of life force being taken, no cruel voice. Only unrelenting heat and a miasma of voices over him.

"John? Water." He blinked. Hut. Team. Where? Someone lifted his head and shoulders up and he swallowed a few mouthfuls half expecting it to steam as it made its way down his throat. His dog tags lay in a pool of sweat at his breastbone; they bobbed with each rapid heartbeat. He stared mesmerised before laying his head down again.

"You back with us now?" Rodney asked standing over him, little bits of power bar flaking off as he unwrapped it. John nodded as the sickly sweet scent made saliva rush to his mouth for all the wrong reasons.

"Good."

"Sorry."

"Sorry? Is that all you can...oh God..." Rodney yelped and scuttled back as John leaned over and suddenly vomited over the floor. Teyla held him so he wouldn't fall into the messy pile and Ronon scuffed earth and straw over it.

After that the world slipped away into moments of snowballs on snow days but mostly of hot tents in Afghanistan and never being cool.

The door swung open and a dark figure filled the doorway. John tried to get up but a strong hand pushed him down. There was yelling and quiet words but it all flowed over and through him. It was all too much to track. He let go.

0o0  
He came to with sweat drying on his body, feeling like the very air was pushing him down into the earth underneath with leaden fingers.

"Sheppard?"

It was Rodney, a subdued Rodney. John frowned, trying to gather enough energy to answer. He twitched a hand.  
"There's water. You need to drink it slowly. Want some?" He nodded. It felt good. Rodney's hand brushed across his forehead.

"Fever seems to have gone at last."

"How long?" John croaked, hoping there was more water to be had.

"Most of the day's gone. They think we're all going to get sick. They didn't exactly see you at your best earlier. Atlantis will be getting worried." Rodney filled in.

"You guys okay?" he had to know.

"We are all well..." Teyla began

"Apart from being locked up to die!" Rodney interrupted.

"McKay!" Ronon said forcefully.

"None of us have chills, fever or sickness."

"Look I'm not saying they don't have a right to be wary. Quarantine, I get it. But whatever he's got could be easily treatable and being stuck in here doesn't help us!"

All the drama and kvetching was too much and he was so tired. Maybe things would be better later. His team was awesome, it'd be fine. Probably.

0o0

Waking up again, some indeterminate time later, he felt okay, sappingly tired but not cold and not hot either.

"Hey?"

"There's water. Can you eat anything?" Teyla asked as she held the canteen to his lips. He drank and shook his head. Not in the mood for food yet.

"We are to be kept for another two days. All our arguments fell on deaf ears. They have however given us more water..."

"Don't forget the bucket!" Rodney muttered.

John wondered what his problem was...oh...bucket. For...you know...At least he didn't have that problem he'd probably sweated any pee right out of his pores. Still, it showed the natives weren't inhumane. He hoped for everyone's sake that The Bucket was replaced every day, ditto the water- hopefully in a very different container. Hate to get them confused...god, he was rambling.

" 'Lantis?" he asked, worried.

"They didn't say if anyone had arrived. But they must be organising an S & R team by now. We can't stop them from being captured as well." Ronon replied.

There was nothing to be done but to try and get some rest and see what the next day brought.

Day two passed slowly. John managed to get up and stagger round the room to stretch his legs. But in truth, it was just him checking the room out. Control freak habit. He didn't know why he bothered because Ronon would have got them out if he could or Rodney would have knitted a bomb out of the straw and a spare MRE dessert and neither of those things happened. Anyway, he had a long nap after his excursion, but maybe there was knitting going on while he slept.

Rousing for some food- half a power bar- he realised that his team had quickly developed a routine. Carefully pouring water from the refilled water barrel into the top of his canteen. He knew it was his- it had the dent in it. Whilst the others also stuck to their own bottles. It was basic hygiene and quarantine practice. And The Bucket was in the darkest corner.

Best news yet- the others weren't getting sick at all from whatever it was that he had, but he worried about Rodney's low blood sugar, and that he might seem contagiously sick to the natives if he suddenly keeled over. He wondered what Woolsey was doing back on Atlantis.

"I can hear you thinking," Rodney suddenly said.

"Can't help it. Did you find the pack of cards in my vest?"

Judging from Rodney's mad scramble – they hadn't. John successfully boosted the team morale and he could lean against a wall to do it.

They played cards games until John nodded off again. He hated feeling so weak and for putting his team in such peril.

Day Three. They hoped it would be the deal breaker- rescue or release or something. Rodney played Patience on the floor, Ronon paced and stretched and Teyla tried unsuccessfully to get anyone to come and talk to them before the appointed time. John sat and pointed out card moves to Rodney.

Everything seemed to be going well when John suddenly shivered. The others all stared at him.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine!"

"No, you've gone pale again," Ronon said stepping closer to him.

"Give me your..."

"Get off!" John said, pulling his hand out of Rodney's but it was too late.

"Ice cold!" Rodney screeched, even as John pulled his jacket closed. "I don't believe this!"

John sat and shivered in misery. He didn't believe it either.

"Why is John alone ill? Why is it returning? We have done nothing, been nowhere but here or the City recently!" Teyla thought out loud.

"Think! You didn't come with us to the Primarans but Ronon did. I left because of hay fever. Ronon's okay, I'm okay."

Ronon draped his big coat back over John's shoulders. John rolled over and huddled, shaking with the force of the cold that enveloped his body. He tried to keep track of the conversation.

"Post mission checks would have found something, or should have."

"What about the pier yesterday? He fell asleep there."

"Snakebite!"

"Oh, don't you think he'd have been sick before this!"

"I don't know!" Ronon yelled, frustrated.

John didn't care any more. He knew he was going to feel worse within an hour or two and he wasn't looking forward to it. Muscle spasms gripped his legs and he was vaguely aware of his team trying to help him.

Cold, so cold.

He'd crashed his 'copter in the snow in Antarctica. No-one was going to come and look for him. Black mark. Taxi service. He was stuck in the ice. Everything had been okay. He kept to himself, spent a lot of time making sure she was sweet to fly and reading his book sitting in the bird. Sometimes he helped the scientists with their experiments equipment, lugging it across the tundra. But he flew to another base on occasion. Secret. Hush- Hush, so they said. Not like he'd ever see inside of it. Not that it mattered now. Crashed and burned.

He didn't think dying in the cold could hurt so much.

Maybe he wasn't going to die after all. There was a lull. And then the flames from the crash were back, running up his whole body. He fought against the zip on his jumper suit and tried to throw himself out away from the flames licking over him. Hands on his body. Voices? Rescue? Must have seen the black smoke for miles. Dangerous. Get out. Might be insurgents. But he had to go and look for someone. There had been others with him hadn't there? No, no, no! His buddies were dead.

Sickness rose up his throat at locked memories.

Frantic. Hot Hurting. Dying.

Snowballs on his chest melting as fiery liquid. Too much. Not enough.

Voices. Shouting.Hands on his body. Pushed them away. Movement

Sickness and then darkness flattened his exhausted body.

0o0  
Something was different this time but he was too tired to figure it out and didn't even try to open his eyes. He drifted through muffled voices and noises and then sank again.

The next time he realised the air felt different. As in- not in the stuffy store room off world. That sparked a bit of interest and he decided it was time to see where he was, though he hoped it was Atlantis. He tried to concentrate and send a ping out, to check.

"Sheppard, why are you smiling?"

Talking and moving were impossible apparently, so he went back to sleep.

0o0

"Colonel? I really need you to wake up now."

Fingers pried open his eyes one at a time and flashed light into them. The third time awake was definitely not the charm. He grumbled.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. There are people waiting to see you, so why don't you say hello?"

Keller was way too bright eyed and bushy tailed for his liking. But then she had let him rescue Teyla before re-arranging his insides, so he thought he'd better do what she asked.

"Wh't 'append?" he croaked, blinking hard in the infirmary brightness. Keller pressed a button and the bed rose up. Better, now that he wasn't flat on his back with everyone staring at him. The usual suspects were lined up. Keller stuck a straw in his mouth and he was allowed a few sips of water. Heaven.

"Telmar came to the rescue," Rodney said, always first with the news.

His brain wasn't near enough awake to figure that one out.

"Perhaps you'd better come back a little later. He's on the mend. Or will be as will the others," Keller tried to shoo his team away.

Hang on, others?

"No, tell me! Others? You guys okay?" he asked, more than a little anxious.

His team arranged themselves in the hard plastic chairs.

"Turns out they had sick people on New Primar as well. They asked for help. Keller did tests and realised at about the same time that we were overdue for check in, that we were possibly in trouble too." Ronon filled in. John was still clueless.

"Still don't get it."

"Malaria, John. From that marshy ground on New Primar."

"This should have been caught on post mission blood tests and the re test several days later. But you remember the system faults we had back then? Samples were destroyed when the refrigeration failed. On New Primar they didn't know what it was and it had killed some of the elderly and young children before they came to us. Really, it was classic- a new population and hot and dry spells followed by a rainy season. Perfect breeding grounds for mosquitoes." Keller explained.

"I don't remember any itchy bites though,"

"The insect salve they slapped on you worked very effectively," Rodney said.

No doubt he wanted to get the recipe to go with his sunblock factor 100 for off world trips.

"Neelan's okay?" he suddenly asked.

"He was doing very poorly, but I'm hoping he will be well soon."

"So, why did they believe Telmar?"

"Because they were survivors and because he was very persuasive and sneaky. He revealed he knew us, what we'd done for them off world and what Keller had done for them here in small doses. Drip, drip until they couldn't release us quickly enough," Ronon said, impressed.

"Mind you, by then you were completely out of your head..."

"Rodney!" Teyla scolded him.

John laughed "S'okay, he's just being Rodney." But he knew he must have given them all a scare.

"So, I'm on some drugs for weeks and then what?"

"Regular blood tests. You can always take bed netting with you. In fact we've issued it to everyone on New Primar and the tablets. We guess we can send manpower to drain the swamp, or they could move location and have us survey a better spot."

"Am I likely to get sick again?"

"Possibly. If you get bitten again or get very run down or a combination of the two. The parasites can live in the liver for a long time before they cause problems. Although we've managed to stop this cycle...."

"This won't affect my pilot status or anything else here will it?" he asked panicked.

"No. Everything's fine. Get some rest, now." Keller walked away, leaving just him and his team.

He was tiring. He wondered how long it would be before he could face food again or have enough strength to go running with Ronon or spar with Teyla or even a Back to the Future marathon with Rodney. He filed them under his To Do list and pressed the button to lay back down.

"I am glad you are going to be alright. It would seem unfair that helping to rescue Neelan made you both so ill." Teyla said quietly. "I will leave you to your rest. I am sure one of the other swill stay in case you need us."

"Yeah, Rodney jinxed us before we left...."

"Hey!" Rodney spluttered, "I did not! Anyway you would have been all bug..."

"Don't say that word!"

"Parasite infested by then. So no I did not jinx the meet and greet. I need some food. I'll be back in a bit."

Rodney and Teyla both left, leaving only Ronon, and John savoured the silence. He had almost drifted off when the Satedan spoke up.

"You talked about some stuff when you were ill."

John slid further into the sheets and blanket, waiting.

"I remembered the name you were saying from when we were under the influence of that Wraith thing and you shot McKay."

He closed his eyes, feeling his face beginning to burn and hoping it could be written off as the fever returning. Probably not.

Ronon clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, Sheppard. You've been through a lot. We don't think any less of you for going back. It's bad that you've lost comrades like that. We've all lost people.

He paused, and for a half second John thought he was finished but then he spoke again, his voice even lower. "I think what scared us was that we almost lost you again, and there wasn't much we could do. But you made it, because of the good things you've done, that we've done. Nobody can take that away."

"Kick their butts if they tried. Thanks, Big Guy," John mumbled into his pillow.

"Anytime, Sheppard."

 

END


End file.
